


Inherited Abnormality

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Abnormality, Cleverness, F/M, Family, Gen, Insanity, Love, Worry, genius, parental concern, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 23:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17497778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: Gareth and Roanna worry that their son's cleverness might be insanity.





	Inherited Abnormality

Inherited Abnormalities

“Do you ever worry about our son?” Roanna whispered, head curling into the curve of Gareth’s neck as they lay beside one another in bed late at night. 

“Every day and night.” Gareth pulled her closer to him, her body warming his like a blanket. “What has you worried about him now?” 

“He was staring out the window for hours after he had completed his lessons.” Roanna fretted with the fabric of Gareth’s nightshirt. “At first, I assumed he was bored because that’s what happens to boys when it’s raining, and they can’t run around outside, so I offered to bring him to Jon’s nursery so they might play together, and he told me he didn’t want to play. He insisted that he just wanted to think so he sat at the window apparently just thinking for hours, but what does a small boy like him have to ruminate over for so long?” 

“I’ve seen him do that before.” Gareth stroked soothing fingers through his wife’s tangled hair that seemed to reflect her agitated state so well. Indeed he had caught his son staring blankly out of windows many times before. The boy didn’t draw pictures in the mist his breath made on the panes or point out interesting shapes in the clouds. He just sat there, puzzling out things in his own mind. “That’s perfectly normal for Gary.” 

“It’s not for other boys, though.” Roanna shook her head away from Gareth’s comforting touch. “That’s not the only unusual thing about him either. When he borrows your chess set, he never wants to play with you.” 

“That’s because he’s too proud to want to be beaten by his father.” Gareth smiled slightly. “That’s only proof that he was born with a competitive edge befitting a Naxen.” 

“I rather think that comes from his Irimor side.” Roanna sniffed, referencing her birth family. “The muttering to himself part—which is what worries me—is the insanity he inherited through his Naxen blood, I believe.” 

“Our boy isn’t insane.” Gareth spoke more sharply than he had intended because his wife had voiced a fear he had for his son that he had never dared to acknowledge. 

“He talks to himself,” Roanna snapped. “What other word is there for that?”

“He’s a little lad. He’ll outgrow the habit.” Gareth decided not to mention that he had hoped Gary might have outgrown it sooner. When Roanna made no reply beyond a noncommittal noise, he went on angrily, “He’s not mentally defective, Roanna. He learned to talk, read, and write well before any other boy his age in the palace did.” 

“I know he’s a clever boy.” Roanna’s ragged sigh revealed how much of their delight in their son’s brilliance had turned to sorrow over the years. Sometimes a black part of Gareth’s heart believed it would have been easier for them to love a less bright but less troublesome boy. He never invited those shadows into the light and hoped they would be swallowed by their own darkness in time. “I just wonder if he’s too clever for his own good and if that’s beginning to drive him—and the rest of us—to madness.” 

“I’ll speak to Duke Baird tomorrow about your concerns.” Gareth couldn’t admit yet that he shared the same secret fears as his wife. 

Silence fell between them, and in it Gareth could hear scuttling outside their bedchamber door. His frown was mirrored in Roanna’s as she asked, “What was that scuttling outside our bedchamber door?” 

“Probably mice.” Gareth shifted into a more relaxed position on his pillows, preparing for a deep sleep that would allow him to govern a realm and train impertinent pages the next day. “Best not to think about how many of them roam about the palace every night.” 

Another woman might have squealed at the mere mention of mice, but Roanna only said, “I’ll have the chambermaids set traps to catch them tomorrow then. I won’t have mice infesting our quarters.” 

“An excellent idea, my dear.” Gareth, drifting off to sleep, was so exhausted he would have agreed with anything his wife suggested. 

The next day Duke Baird listened with a furrowed brow as Gareth enumerated his and Roanna’s concerns. He was finally willing to acknowledge he harbored them as well in Duke Baird’s mild presence that was always devoid of judgment. 

Duke Baird waited patiently for Gareth to finish describing all of Gary’s most worrisome peculiarities before answering in his gentle healer’s manner, “You and Roanna are right that your boy isn’t normal. He may be the brightest little boy I ever encountered. That’s why he learned to talk, read, and write so swiftly, but it’s also why he talks to himself, plays by himself, and stares out windows for hours just thinking. His mind isn’t just capable of entertaining itself—it needs to entertain itself—and when it gets bored that’s when he creates mischief.” 

“Yes, Roanna and I noticed that,” observed Gareth dryly though Duke Baird’s reassurance was already beginning to calm him. Surely Duke Baird would know if he and Roanna had cause to be concerned about Gary’s sanity. 

“Quite.” Duke Baird’s lips quirked. “The Old Ones would have called your son a genius, and they would have said that genius is pain.” 

“Pain for who?” Gareth arched an eyebrow, thinking of the many problems it amused his son to create for him and Roanna. “My son or for my wife and me?” 

“For all three of you.” Duke Baird’s tone was sympathetic but there was a glitter of humor in his dark green eyes. “If it’s any consolation, however, I don’t believe any parents would be better equipped to raise a genius than you and Roanna.” 

“Doubtlessly that is your way of saying that no parents are ever equipped to raise a genius.” Gareth stood. “Thank you for your counsel, Your Grace. I’ll take my leave now and not waste any more of the time you should be devoting to patients who are truly ill.” 

He attended the day’s council meeting, negotiated some clauses of a trade agreement with the Tyran ambassador, and assigned punishment work to a group of pages who had been caught sneaking out of the palace to explore Corus two evenings ago. Only when he had completed those duties could he return to his wife and assure her that their son, according to Duke Baird, wasn’t normal but wasn’t insane either, and that such people were apparently called geniuses. 

Roanna’s frown didn’t abate when he related this news to her, however. Instead she informed in a tone taut as a bowstring about to fire, “Gary locked himself in his room the moment he was done with his lessons. I know something is wrong with him, but he refuses to tell me what it is.” 

“I’ll talk to him then.” Gareth strode toward his son’s bedchamber door. “If he doesn’t want to talk to me about whatever is bothering him, I’ll give him a thorough scolding for his moodiness. I certainly have no intention of indulging in it.” 

Roanna made a snort as if she doubted his ability to remain stern in the face of their son’s petulance but Gareth pretended not to hear her as he opened Gary’s door, deciding not to give his boy a chance to refuse his visit. 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Gary sat on his bed with a book in his hands, but Gareth had the distinct impression that his son was only pretending to read. “You and Mother think I’m not normal.” 

“What makes you say that, lad?” Gareth slid the book from between his son’s fingers so that the boy would have to look at him and placed it on the nightstand at Gary’s bedside. There was enough of an undercurrent of hurt in Gary’s comment that Gareth was willing to overlook his disrespectful tone. 

“I overheard you and Mother talking last night.” Gary gazed up at Gareth as if he suspected his father of stupidity, and maybe Gareth had been a fool not to realize that the scuttling he had heard last night was a tell-tale sign of his son’s eavesdropping. 

“You eavesdropped.” Gareth gripped his son’s ear and gave a tug—strong enough to be stern but not forceful enough to hurt. He never wanted to hurt his boy. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, son, as I’ve told you a hundred times before.”

“It was a good thing I did eavesdrop, Father.” Gary pouted and rubbed at his ear after Gareth released it though Gareth was convinced this gesture was as much an act as his earlier appearance of reading. “How else would I have known that you and Mother were talking about me behind my back? You and Mother shouldn’t talk about me behind my back. It’s not fair.” 

“You’re our child.” Gareth crossed his arms as he stared down at his son. “Your mother and I have every right to discuss raising you in private, and you shouldn’t violate our privacy by eavesdropping.” 

“It hurt my feelings to hear you and Mother say I’m not normal.” Gary’s chin wobbled, and Gareth could sense that his boy was on the brink of tears. “I know I’m not normal, but I don’t need to hear you and Mother say it to each other. I wish I was normal—that I was dumb as everybody else—more than you and Mother do.” 

“You don’t wish that.” Gareth rested a hand on his son’s shoulder, thinking he of all people should have understood earlier how lonely and tiring it could be to forever be viewed as the cleverest man—or boy—in the room. “None of us do. I’d still love you if you were a fool, of course, but I thank Mithros each day that you aren’t—that you were born healthy and smart.” 

“I had no chance of being normal with you and Mother as my parents, you know.” Gary looked up at his father with an odd mixture of respect and resentment on his face. “I blame all my abnormalities on you and Mother since neither of you are what anyone would call normal.” 

“You might blame your abnormalities on your mother and me.” Gareth forced himself to sound severe when inside he was amused by his son’s intelligence and impudence. That was an all too common feeling for him when he was disciplining his boy. “However I warn you that I’ll blame all your pertness on you, son.” 

“I wasn’t being pert, Father.” Gary flashed his most charming grin—the one he wore when trying to flatter his way out of trouble. “I was only complimenting you and Mother on your exceptionality.”


End file.
